CHAPTER 18

The charge of the Rebels, some armed with pistols and knives, others with pistols and camp axes, took the uglies by surprise. And that one or two seconds that they hesitated cost them dearly. For wars are not won by hesitation; the bones of hundreds of thousands who hesitated lie decaying in the ground, offering mute proof.

The Rebels, screaming like Odin’s Vikings and Valkyries, hit the Night People in a rush.

While some busied themselves herding the confused and shivering prisoners into the relative warmth of buildings, the other Rebels were bloodying their blades in the bellies and chests and heads of the nearly blinded creepies.

The Rebels chopped the Night People into the snow, now crimson and trampled and littered with the dead and the dying.

When Ben sensed that valor was overriding discretion, and that as many of the innocents as possible had been saved, he yelled for his people to fall back and pour in the lead.

Within seconds, the rattle of automatic weapons fire shook the snow-covered and bloody streets of the city. Some innocents died. And Ben would have to live with that knowledge. But for every one who died, Ben and his Rebels pulled ten to safety.

Thermopolis had never killed a man close up, never looked into the dying eyes, fading as the soul winged away. It was not something he enjoyed. But he did begin to understand something that had always eluded him: there really was a high in combat. A rush unlike anything he had ever experienced.

And he also knew that he would never again be the same person. The siren’s call of the maidens who waited for the slain warriors to walk through any of the 540

doors of the palace of Odin had reached his ears. And he knew that at least part of him would always be so, until the day of Ragnarok, when he would march into his final battle.

Probably beside Ben Raines, he thought. He didn’t know whether to be irritated or pleased.

Emil had fought like an alley cat, leaping and slashing and yelling and spitting and talking in tongues.

That in itself was enough to startle anyone.

And far below Ben’s Rebels, West and Ike and Cecil and their troops were exacting a heavy toll on the creepies, and rescuing a large number of badly frightened and confused prisoners.

The Night People would make no more attacks during that snowy time of darkness. They had lost several thousand people, thanks to Ben Raines’s unpredictability.

The creepies who had managed to break free of the charge of the Rebels slipped under the city. No more for them, not this night.

Ben looked down into the still-savage face of a dead creep. He felt no compassion, no pity.

Nothing but contempt for any human being who would allow himself to sink as low as the Night P.

“Compared to you,” he muttered, “Khamsin’s a pussycat.” He turned away and found Beth.

“Stand the people down to a low alert. Get me reports from all units and start a count of the rescued. I want each one of them questioned. Sooner or later we’re going to have to go down into the bowels of this city.

And we’re going to need every scrap of information we can get.”

A creepie came out of the snow, bloody but still alive. He had a knife in his dirty hand. A shot rang out; a hole was punched into the ugly’s head. Ben turned. Jerre was standing a few feet from him, the muzzle of her M-16 still smoking.

“Thank you, Jerre.”

“You’re certainly welcome, Ben.” She turned and walked into a bullet-pocked building, leaving Ben standing amid the bodies on the bloody snow.

“Always gets the last word,” Ben muttered. “Never fails.”

For the first time in several days, most of the Rebels got a good night’s sleep, awakening to a very cold, sunny, and almost blindingly white dawn.

Ben ate a welcome hot meal and then went over to Chase’s hospital, located in the old Jewish Memorial Hospital across from Fort Tryon Park on Broadway. His son met him there.

“That was a very daring move last night, Father.

It

took everybody by surprise.”

“Have you spoken with Doctor Chase this morning?”

Ben sidestepped the compliment.

“Yes. The newly freed prisoners are poor, pathetic creatures indeed. Most of this group are Canadians; been here about a year. Those who would respond to the questioning at all have confirmed that the empire of the Night People stretches around the world.

That would confirm your theory as to why Khamsin left South America. But those here in the city are getting desperate. The move last night was an act of desperation. They’re running out of food.”

Chase walked out of the hospital. He had on so many layers of clothing he looked like a small bear.

And could roar like one. “Raines!” he bellowed.

“My arthritis is killing me. I am not going to stand out here in the cold like an iceberg and talk with you. So will you kindly bring your butt inside?” He pointed at Jerre. “And I want to take a look at that ankle of yours, too.” He chuckled.

“Nice ankle, I might add.”

He walked back into the warmth of the hospital, Buddy and Ben and the others following. Cooper stayed with the Blazer.

“Old goat” Ben said, smiling. But he did not feel like smiling, not after receiving an urgent communiqu@efrom Katzman just before leaving his CP.

The message had numbed him for a moment.

While Jerre went with a medic to have her ankle looked at-she was no longer limping-Ben and Buddy went into Chase’s office and poured coffee.

Chase took note of the expression on Ben’s face. “You look like a thundercloud, Ben.

What’s the

mat

ter with you-you coming down with something?”

“Later, Lamar. Bring me up to date on the prisoners.”

“Physically, most of them will probably make it.

Mentally, they’re a disaster area. Some of them even worse than that first bunch Cecil found over in Brooklyn. Buddy’s probably briefed you.”

Ben nodded his head. “The creepies are really running out of … food?” He grimaced at the last.

“Oh, they’ve got enough prisoners to sustain them through the winter and possibly the spring. I’ve been able to piece that much together from talking with the doctors treating them. They’re basket cases, Ben. We can probably bring the kids back … in time. Perhaps some of the adults. Maybe. But most of the adults?

…” He shook his head.

Ben rose, refilled his coffee cup and paced the office. He looked at Chase. “What do you intend to do with them, Lamar?”

“I intend to treat them, Raines.” His reply was very frosty.

“Hell, I know

that,

you old buzzard. Where do you plan on housing them?

We don’t have a safe zone anywhere in the city. This hospital could be overrun at any time.”

“Then you’re going to have to make this a safe zone, Ben.”

“What am I, Lamar, a miracle worker?”

“Relax, Ben. Sit down. I don’t mean

to pressure you. Seeing these poor people’s got me edgy, that’s all. I think we’re going to have to talk about the use of chemicals again, Ben. We’re going to

have to

weigh the law of diminishing returns.”

“And you think I haven’t been doing that?”

Buddy sat quietly, saying nothing.

“Ben, I know you have. I understand that a lot of things have been weighing heavily on your mind. And now something else had been added. You’re worried. Sometimes I can read you like a good book, old friend. So come on, spit it out.”

With a sigh, Ben said, “Katzman’s decoding people have been working for several days breaking down several coded messages received from South Carolina. It seems that Khamsin has worked out a deal with the Night P. Khamsin and his army will be in the New York City area in about ten days.”

After the shock of that had settled in, Ben looked at Buddy. “There’s more, son.”

“I thought there might be. Let me guess. My mother has also joined forces to try and defeat the man she hates: Ben Raines.”

“You got it, boy.”

Chase drummed his fingers on the desktop.

“A-hundred-to-one odds, Ben?”

“At least. Probably more than that. But,” Ben held up a finger, “after last night, I think the creepies are going to stay in their holes and wait for reinforcements to get here. We gave them a drubbing last night. Several thousand dead. I would imagine these so-called Judges are in a state of shock.

Buddy, tell Beth to bump Katzman through translators. I want a meeting of commanders, up here, right now.”

They were all professional soldiers; they took the news without changing expression. To a person, their minds were already working on the problem. They had no other choice. They knew, of course, that they could bust out; it would be tough, but they could do it.

But that would not solve the problem. It would still be on their backs. And the horror would continue to grow until it consumed them all.

That must not be allowed to happen.

“Khamsin has long-range artillery?” Danjou asked.

“Oh, yes,” Ben replied.

“But I don’t think his plan is to destroy the city,” Cecil said. “That would be counterproductive … in more ways than one.”

West spoke. “I agree.”

Thermopolis and Emil stood near the back of the room, saying nothing, listening to the exchange. Both were changed men since their arrival. Although it wouldn’t take much for Emil to revert. Something he planned to do if this war ever ended.

“The city is going to get very crowded, very soon,”

Striganov said. “We might even have to light up Times Square.” He smiled. “I’d like to see it once before I die.”

“I don’t know about lighting up the city,” Ben said.

“But we very well may have to empty every fuel storage tank in New England, flood the subway with gas, and then blow up the city!”

Ben had given the orders: “West, you’ll take a convoy filled with weapons and ammo and grenades, four tanks to accompany you, and break through to Central Park. Savie’s people have got to be ready to fight for their lives. If you want to stay up there with them … that’s up to you.”

“It might be best if I did, General. We could at least get better field reports back to you with my men doing the scouting.”

“Whatever you think, West. Take whatever supplies you’ll need for a sustained operation.”

The mercenary shook hands all the way around, paused in the door to salute Ben, and then left the room.

Ben looked at Striganov and smiled. The Russian picked up on it and grinned. “I’d love to join you, Ben! I hereby place myself and my battalion under your command.”

“Give the orders, Beth. Get Georgi’s battalion on the move.”

The Russian general moved around the table to stand beside Ben.

“Rebet,” Ben said, “your two battalions will link up with Cecil.”

Rebet popped to attention. “Yes, sir!”

“Cecil, you’ll take everything east of Broadway over to the river.”

“Right, Ben.”

“Major Danjou, link your battalion with Ike’s people.”

The Canadian likewise popped to attention.

“Yes, sir!”

“Ike, you take everything west of Broadway to the waterfront.”

“Gotcha, Ben.”

“Thermopolis, Emil, you’ll stay up here with General Striganov and me.”

The hippie and the scam operator nodded their heads.

“Tina, I’m having Jerre reassigned back to your command. Effective immediately. Chase gave her a clean bill of health today.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Buddy.” He looked at his son. “You and your company are now under Dan’s command.” He handed the muscular young man a thick sheaf of rolled-up paper. “Study these very carefully, son. These are the blueprints of the subway system. I want to know what’s down there-and you’ll find out for me.”

“Yes, sir, Father.”

“Now comes the hard part, gentlemen. I already know where West stands. I need to know your feelings on the matter.” Ben walked to the coffee pot and poured a cup, then carefully hand-rolled a cigarette, licked it tight and lit up. He smiled grimly. “Surgeon General Koop would be unhappy with me, I know.”

Ben sipped his strong coffee and let his eyes touch each person in the room before speaking. “I also know Doctor Chase’s feelings on this. He said he was too busy healing people to stand around with a bunch of rank-happy gunslingers making war talk.”

They all smiled at that. On more than one occasion, Chase had picked up a rifle and confronted whatever enemy the Rebels were facing at that particular moment … and held his own. Of course, he bitched the entire time; but everyone was used to that.

The men and women in the room waited, eyes on Ben.

“We have to weigh options, people. And we have to do it slowly and painfully. We’ve got, hell, ten maybe twelve thousand people coming at us from South Carolina. Maybe a thousand or more from the Ninth Order. We’re already facing unbelievable odds as it is.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “The more lucid of the rescued prisoners are firm on one point: that being, they would rather die than live the way they are forced to live. I am not going to make this decision alone, gang. I am not going to force any Rebel to kill innocents against their will.

This is something that you all will have to take up with your people.

I’ll expect your answer within forty-eight hours.”

“And during that forty-eight hours you want me to give you a preliminary on the subways and the tunnels,”

Buddy said, not posing it as a question.

“That’s correct, son.”

“Will we use chemicals, Dad?” Tina asked.

“God knows, Tina, I don’t want to subject these poor wretches to any more misery than fate has already dealt them. This is a decision that every head of every army that was ever assembled under the flag of freedom has dreaded, but a decision that most had to make at one time or another. Yes, Tina, if it comes down to it, we’ll use chemicals. We can’t be

defeated, people. That can’t even be considered. We are the only thing in the North American continent standing against lawlessness, anarchy, and barbarism. We have to weigh options. We have no choice in the matter. We have to survive. This is not our last fight. I wish it was. But as it stands, we’re going to have about ten days to defeat one enemy, and then turn right around, and face another.

“I want all of you to go to the hospital complex and take a good hard look at the rescued prisoners.

If they’ll talk to you, talk with them. And that is not a request, that is a direct order. Then go canvass your troops. We’ll try tear gas first, to see if we can get deep enough to flush them with that. If that fails, then we’ll use …

poisonous gas.”

Everyone in the room grimaced at that, and at the thought of the hard decisions they had to make.

“Forty-eight hours, people. That’s it. Get cracking.”